A Faithful Servant's Fate
by IronPen123
Summary: It is July 28th, the year 1540. King Henry VIII's most trusted adviser and servant is to be executed. While awaiting death, Cromwell reflects a bit on his life, and the decisions he's made.


_Hello, all! It's been a while, I apologize. I've had no inspiration whatsoever. Alas, what can I do? I hope to have some more _Tudors_ up soon along with more of my _Happily Ever Happy _story._

_I've decided to write this short story in honor of the anniversary of the death of Thomas Cromwell. He is a very interesting man. Many people have vilified him because of the actions he took to please his king, however, I believe him to have only done Henry's bidding to save his own neck. _

_Cromwell was King Henry VIII's faithful servant. He followed every order given, without question. He was a supporter of the Protestant Reformation and played a role in the Pilgrimage of Grace. Interestingly enough though, it was recorded somewhere that while awaiting execution Cromwell recanted having ever been against the Catholic Church and announced his continued allegiance to Catholicism. Cromwell assisted in the downfall of two queens, at Henry's insistence, and pleasure, and planned the disastrous marriage to Anne of Cleves. Henry's displeasure at this choice of a fourth wife, among other things, led him to execute Cromwell, despite pleas of mercy. _

_I cannot say that I agree with the choices Cromwell made or his decisions to bring down many a person in his search for power; however, I show sympathy to the man. He worked hard to achieve whatever his goals were, good and bad. And eventually he fell victim to his own game and was betrayed by the very man he trusted the most, and vice versa._

_In truth, I do not know how bad of a man the _real_ Cromwell was. However, James Frain played the character very humanely and I quite liked his portrayal. It is not known exactly how much Cromwell had to do with the Boleyn's downfall himself, or many of the other deeds carried out by him, under direction of Henry VIII. Whatever the truth, I do not believe the man truly deserved it. _

_So, I hope you enjoy this little fic! Thank you to all my readers and I hope to have more up soon! _

_~IronPen_

_P.S. I've decided to make this story historically accurate. As such, Cromwell's wife, Elizabeth will not appear in this story, as she was already dead by this time. However, there will be a little fluff at the end. Also, I do not know if Cromwell's son, Gregory, would have attended his father's execution, but in the _Tudors_ he did, so I will leave that in. Furthermore, it is unsure whether or not Cromwell did indeed suffer a botched execution. I had read some accounts that say it did indeed take more than once swing to sever Cromwell's head, however, we will truly never know for sure. Therefore, for _this_ particular fic, I will not be keeping with the storyline of the _Tudors_, for _that_ horrid event. All other words and actions however taken by the characters come directly from the _Tudors.

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><p>Early Morning<p>

28, July 1540

The time had come.

There were to be no more pleas for his life. Cromwell had faithfully served the king for many years, submitting to whatever was the king's pleasure, and now, he would obey once again. This time the king desired _his_ death and Cromwell would, thusly, comply.

Like so many before him, Cromwell would die at the will of King Henry VIII, ultimately because of his own ambition and selfishness. Cromwell had brought down many a man and woman, for Henry's pleasure. Most famously had been the late second queen, Queen Anne Boleyn. She, too, had been extremely ambitious and gifted at manipulating others to get what she wanted. Little good it did her in the end. And little good would this same talent do Cromwell. Like countless others Cromwell was to be executed based on false charges brought upon him by people who wished him to lose favor with His Majesty. And similarly, to many others, he was to be betrayed by a king to whom he had been fiercely loyal.

He sat, pondering these things, and more. That he had displeased the king was not up for debate. That he deserved his fate was quite another matter. Cromwell believed himself to truly be innocent in all aspects. Had he truly dissatisfied the king, it was unintentional, but he could not imagine what he could have done to deserve his wrath. Had he not always followed through with the king's orders no matter how unpleasant and heinous they had been? But he knew better than perhaps anyone, having served such a ruthless man, and done away with many others, that once the king had made up his mind, it was set in stone. There was no turning back, now. There was nothing that could be done to ease the king's anger, nor to change his mind. Henry's mind was set upon Cromwell's death. He was in no position to grant second chances. The king showed no mercy in these matters.

Cromwell remembered the day when the door to his prison cell had opened, about a month ago. He had foolishly hoped that Henry had reconsidered and that he would be released. He had been sorely mistaken. Instead it had been Charles Brandon. Cromwell remembered exactly what the man had said to him.

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><p>"Mister Cromwell." Brandon sneered. The term of "mister" was meant for malice, mocking him by emphasizing that he no longer retained his titles of Secretary, Baron, or Lord and other honors he had been granted in his lifetime.<p>

Cromwell bowed respectively and said, "Your Grace." Brandon then proceeded to relay what the king had asked him.

"The king orders that you write him a letter describing how he found Anne of Cleves, what passed between you on that subject, and whether he had told you that he had consummated his 'so-called' marriage, or not. He also orders you to describe the impediments to the marriage and whether knowing the, you still arranged it." Brandon moved away from Cromwell, towards the window. There was a gleam in his eye. He continued to speak, "His Majesty charges that as you'll answer God on the dreadful Day of Judgment and also upon the extreme danger and damnation of your soul and conscience, to write down exactly what you know."

"Well, I'll most gladly do as the king commands. I trust in his pleasure and satisfaction. I desire nothing else than the king's comfort and would most willingly die for it," had been Cromwell's reply.

Brandon made a confirmative noise. Then his voice turned cold, derisive. "I just wondered if you could see your house from that window." He took a moment to sigh in what seemed like mock concern and then continued with, "the fact is, Mister Cromwell, that only two hours after your arrest, the king dispatched his treasurer there to take away your goods. The rabble came out to cheer them on. Twas a pretty sight," he hesitated, "I hear." Cromwell's face was pained. He could still remember exactly how he felt as Brandon uttered his words.

"Guard," Brandon said, looking upon Cromwell's face with a look of triumph. Then he turned and walked away. The guard closed the door and Cromwell was left alone.

Alone.

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><p>The letter Cromwell had written addressed the circumstances involving the lady Anne of Cleves, among other things, at the king's request. The letter read thus:<p>

"…_I beseech Your Majesty most humbly to pardon my rude writing and to consider that I, a most woeful prisoner, am ready to take the death when it shall please God and Your Majesty. …Yet, the frail flesh incites me to continue to call upon Your Grace for mercy and grace for my offences…thus Christ saith preserve and keep you; written at the Tower, this Wednesday, the last of June…_

_ "….With heavy heart and trembling hand for Your Highness most heavy and miserable prisoner and poor slave. Most Gracious Prince, I cry for mercy, mercy, mercy."_

_ Thomas Cromwell _

He had written expressively as the king asked, answering all inquiries regarding Anne of Clever, and also begging for his life. But to no avail. The death sentence was to be carried out, despite his ardent pleas.

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><p>When the guards came for him and chained him, he did not struggle. He knew it was the end. There was no use in trying to evade it Death would come one way or another. Cromwell walked through the large throng of people that had gathered to see the king's most faithful servant, turned 'traitor' rightfully executed. As he made his way through the crowd, people jeered and shouted, swore and showed intense loathing of this once most powerful man in England, save for perhaps, the king himself.<p>

Before walking up to the scaffold Cromwell caught his son, Gregory's eye. Father touched son's shoulder, looking affectionately into his eyes. Gregory looked back into his father's face with grief and great fear. Gregory watched in utter horror as his father was pushed upward, toward the scaffold by one of the king's guards. Cromwell could hear the restless crowd shouting words such as, "Kill him!" These jeers sent slight tremors through his body.

He mounted the scaffold bravely and faced the crowd. He tried to ignore their shouts and threats as he fought for his voice, "Good people," he said, pausing to take a breath and shrug his shoulders. "I have come here to die." His voice broke. There were cheers resonating from the crowd at his words, announcing his coming death. Cromwell continued, "But not to purge myself as some might think I should." He was shaking with each word he spoke, rather in fear or resentment, it was unclear. "I am by law condemned to die and I thank my Lord God that has granted me this death for my offence, for since I came of age, I have lived as a sinner and offended my Lord God for which I ask Him heartily for forgiveness." There were more jeers and shouts from the crowd, asking for his death. There were more cries of "traitor!" and "off with his head!" along with more swearing and "send him to hells!" and "get it over withs!"

Cromwell continued to speak, shakily now and his voice continuing to break into stifled sobs. "I have also offended my Prince, for which I ask him hearty amnesty. And I heartily desire for you to pray for the king's grace. And that he may long live with you in health and prosperity. And that after him, his son, Prince Edward, may long reign over you. Gentlemen, you should all take warning from me. It was as you know from a poor man made by the Prince into a great gentleman that I not contended with that, not with having the kingdom at my orders, perceived it to a higher state." He was sobbing now, unable to continue for a moment. Gregory was looking at his father will great sadness and tears in his own eyes. "My pride has brought this punishment," he said with brave conviction.

He began to kneel before the block at that point, the crowd continuing to damn him. He folded his hands in prayer, sobbing while reciting his final appeals to the Almighty. "Lord, grant me so that when these eyes shall lose their use, that the eyes of my soul may see thee. God, Lord, and Father that when this man shall lose his youth, that my heart say unto thee Father, at which your hands, I commend my spirit." He clenched his hands together more tightly, earnestly, as he finished his prayer.

Cromwell placed his hand on the sides of the block, addressing the crowd once more with his final words. "Pray for the Prince and for the Lords of the Council." The words spoken to the council seemed meant more for a warning that they may yet meet the same fate, more so than anything else that might have been supposed. He continued, "And for the clergy and for the people. Now I beg you again that you will pray for me, pray for the possible cut of the head with one blow, so that I may not suffer much." His eyes fell beseechingly on the executioner. There was nothing more to say. With a final look to his son into the crowd, Cromwell put his head upon the block and waited. He prayed silently to God and Christ for forgiveness of all transgressions and sins and also to Queen Anne, for whose death he had never quite forgiven himself. The executioner picked up his axe. Cromwell's thoughts went to his wife, long deceased. _I love you, Elizabeth. I'm coming to you, my love, very shortly._ _And we shall be together for all eternity. _The executioner took him aim, swung, and Cromwell was no more.

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><p><em> Tada! I hope you all enjoyed it. I hope I didn't make anyone too depressed. XD I'm honestly about to cry myself, as I finish this up. Cromwell was one of my favorite characters in the series, even though he did some pretty nasty things. And I love James Frain, so it's hard NOT to get emotional when his character dies, even if James himself is alive and well! Please, review and let me know what you thought and I would appreciate any additional thoughts or suggestions as well. Thank you!<em>


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